A Valentine Treasure Hunt
by GoodShipSherlollipop
Summary: Molly is annoyed at Sherlock's tardiness on Valentine's Day. As it turns out, he has been planning something special for her. Being married does not mean an end to romance even if it is a little more difficult with a toddler and a baby in the house. (Part of my Journey series). Parentlock x2. M- rated to be safe for 2nd chapter sensual, not-explicit love scene.
1. Hunting for Treasure

Molly looked at her watch and frowned in annoyance.

"Where on earth is your father?" she asked of her peacefully slumbering seven-week-old daughter, Christina.

Sherlock had taken Victoria with him to Baker Street immediately after lunch, saying he only had one consultation at one o'clock. Molly had sent him off with a box of chocolates for Martha for Valentine's Day. Yet here it was, almost five-thirty, and he had not even texted her.

She needed to prepare the fettuccine Alfredo for dinner and had assumed Sherlock would have been home hours ago to watch Christina as she did so.

There was no question of them going out for a meal this year with Christina being so young, and Molly wanted to prepare a dish she knew Sherlock liked best from her cooking.

She decided to text Sherlock, see if he was on his way home. If he was not, she would have to carry the bouncer into the kitchen/dining area so she could keep an eye on Christina while she cooked.

Still feeling annoyed, she pulled out her phone.

_Where are you, Sherlock? I thought you'd be home hours ago._

She thought to give him the benefit of the doubt and added, _Did your consultation take longer than expected? Is there a problem with Martha?_

She drummed her fingers on her knee as she waited for his response. At least it wasn't long in forthcoming.

_Sorry, love, I got held up. Had to run a few errands. I should be home within the next half hour._

_Fine._

She sent the text and reflected grumpily that she would have to move the bouncer after all. She preferred to eat a fairly early dinner and if she had to wait another half hour to even start preparing the meal, it would be seven by the time they ate. Besides, she was already hungry. Breast feeding really gave her an appetite.

"Please stay asleep," Molly entreated the baby as she carefully lifted the bouncer and walked with it to where she had a vantage point while she began chopping her vegetables for the Alfredo.

Fortunately, Christina remained sleeping - for now at least.

By the time Molly heard the front door open, she was in the middle of frying the bacon and sautéing the vegetables to which she would add her cream sauce and Parmesan cheese.

Sherlock walked into the kitchen, holding Victoria. "Smells delicious," he said. "Bacon is good with any meal."

He brought Victoria to Molly for a kiss and set her down, then walked over to kiss Christina on the forehead.

When he returned to Molly to give her a kiss, she turned her head aside so that his lips met her cheek instead.

He looked down at her. "Are you cross with me? Did I do something wrong?"

She didn't look at him, turning her attention back to the ingredients in the frying pan and stirring them. "You could've texted me earlier and let me know you were going to be late, but instead I had to ask you what was going on and you still didn't provide me with a satisfactory answer. What were these errands about?"

"I can't tell you that. It would spoil the surprise."

Her annoyance lifted somewhat, and she looked at him. "A surprise?"

He huffed out a breath. "Of course. It is Valentine's Day, after all."

"I thought perhaps you'd forgotten, seeing as you've left me alone all afternoon."

He rolled his eyes. "You gave me chocolates for Martha, remember? I could hardly forget. Look, I am going to put Victoria in her playpen and then I need to grab some stuff from the car. Don't look or it will spoil the surprise."

Now Molly felt intrigued. How could she be angry at Sherlock when he apparently had been planning a surprise for her? She smiled at him. "Okay. I'm too busy cooking our dinner to look, anyway."

"So now can I have a decent kiss from my wife?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

She put down the wooden spoon and turned to face him, pulling his head down to hers for a proper welcome home kiss. As she did so, she thought about her own special surprise she had planned for when they went to bed. She hoped Sherlock would appreciate it and that their daughters would cooperate by actually sleeping long enough for them to enjoy some alone time together. There had been far too little of that since Christina had been born.

"I'm sorry I was cross with you," Molly told Sherlock when their lips parted.

"And I'm sorry for not letting you know earlier that I would be home later than expected. I hope you will find the delay was worthwhile."

She smiled and pressed her lips against his briefly once more. "I'm sure I will."

She returned to cooking as Sherlock retrieved Victoria, who had been kneeling in front of Christina's bouncer and pushing it down in the way she had seen her parents do, to make it rock gently. Molly loved seeing the way Victoria had adjusted to having a sister around. After the initial jealousy in not being the centre of attention, she apparently now considered Christina a living doll that belonged to her as much as her parents.

Sherlock scooped up a protesting Victoria to put her in her playpen. Christina still slept, but Molly was fairly certain she would be awake soon and crying for her next feeding.

Molly listened as Sherlock opened the front door and went back outside, returning a couple minutes later. She heard him going up the stairs and back down again. She wondered what he had been doing upstairs.

As she added the grated Parmesan and cream to the vegetables, Molly could hear Sherlock murmuring to Victoria in the front room.

It was several minutes before he reappeared at the entrance to the kitchen.

"Right, Molly, please don't go into the front room or our bedroom until after dinner," he told her. "Now, is there anything I can do to help? Victoria has fallen asleep in the playpen."

"I guess you can set the table," Molly told him. She filled water from the sink into a saucepan and set it on the ceramic cooktop to boil, in preparation for adding the fettuccine pasta.

A wail came from the bouncer. Christina was awake. Molly was not surprised. She picked up the baby and told Sherlock, "When the water is boiling, can you add the pasta? It's next to the cooktop. And give the sauce a stir then replace the lid?"

Fortunately, Sherlock had helped her before, so she knew he could take care of these small details. It was just he task of cooking from scratch for which he was hopelessly ill-equipped.

"Of course. I'll take care of everything."

She was about to go to the front room and sit on the sofa to feed the baby when she remembered that Sherlock had instructed her to stay out of the room. "Oh, bother," she muttered.

"What's that?" Sherlock raised a brow as he placed the plates on the table.

"Well, you told me I can't go into the front room and I really need a cushion to put under my arm to support Christina." She rocked the crying baby, trying to soothe her.

"I'll get you a cushion. Be right back."

He returned a minute later with the promised cushion, and Molly settled herself into one of the spare chairs at the dining table to feed Christina. Almost like magic, the baby latched on and immediately began to suckle contentedly. She loved breast-feeding, had missed doing it once she had weaned Victoria. There was something extraordinarily wonderful in the way it created a bond between mother and child.

Sherlock stood for a few moments, mesmerised. He too enjoyed watching Molly feed the baby. He'd been just as fascinated by it when she had breast-fed Victoria.

"Are you going to finish setting the table? And the water is probably boiling by now," she said, when he showed no signs of moving.

He blinked. "Ah yes, of course."

Sherlock took care of the rest of the dinner preparations as Molly continued to feed Christina, then he went off to fetch their toddler so she could eat dinner as well.

By the time Sherlock had settled Victoria in her high chair and mixed the now cooked fettuccine with the sauce, Molly had finished feeding Christina.

Molly buckled the baby back into the often-used bouncer and cut up some of the fettuccine pasta and vegetables for Victoria so she could eat with her fingers. It was messy, but Victoria was not yet proficient in using a spoon by herself. Cognisant of that fact, Molly made sure there was a bib to protect Victoria's outfit.

After dinner, Sherlock proclaimed it was the best fettuccine he had ever had. This was amusing because he said it every time. He loaded the dishes into the dishwasher while Molly cleaned up Victoria's messy face and hands and offered her a cup of chocolate-flavoured milk with a straw.

By this time, Christina's "dinner" had passed through her body. "Sherlock, I need to use the changing station in the front room," Molly said.

"I'll change her," he offered, and Molly shrugged, handing the baby to him. A few minutes later, when he returned Christina to Molly, it was Victoria's turn to be changed. Sherlock did the honours here as well, always more agreeable when it came to changing the wet nappies. The changing station had been a Christmas gift from Sherlock's parents, and Molly was grateful to have it. They had not used one for Victoria; finding room at Baker Street would have been difficult, but now Molly didn't know how she had managed without one. It was so much more convenient to have a place where nappies and wipes were readily available, rather than always having to dig through the changing bag.

This time, when Sherlock returned with a freshly changed Victoria, she held a folded slip of paper in her hand.

"It's time for a little treasure hunt," he told Molly, then looked at Victoria. "Now give Mummy the paper."

Instead, she made a move to put it in her mouth and he sighed, taking it from her. "Not good at taking directions yet," he remarked, handing Moly the slip of paper himself.

A bubble of excitement spread through her. "Is this what contributed to your late arrival home today?"

His lips quirked. "Among other things."

Molly, cradling Christina in one arm, flicked open the paper and squinted at the scrawl. Actually, Sherlock had attempted to write legibly for once, so it wasn't too bad. The note read -

_While we enjoy participating in this battle of wills,_

_More than half the time I emerge the victor still._

Molly smirked. "That doesn't even rhyme, and the metre is all off."

Sherlock pouted. "I never pretended to be a poet."

He looked so offended that Molly felt compelled to apologise. "I'm sorry honey, It's the thought that counts."

He grinned. "So, what do you think I'm talking about in the note?"

Molly rolled her eyes and began walking to the front room. "It's obviously the chess board. No need to rub it in that you win more than half the time."

Sherlock followed her, still holding Victoria. "Actually, it's a compliment to you that you even win at all. With other people I almost always emerge the victor."

Molly snorted at her husband's complete lack of modesty. But then, it was undoubtedly the truth.

Continuing to cradle the baby in her left arm, Molly plucked the note that was prominently sitting beneath the white queen. No wonder Sherlock had said the room was off-limits. Apparently hiding the notes in plain sight was easier.

She read the next note.

_While our daughter enthusiastically bangs on this toy,_

_The sound that emerges does not bring my ears joy._

Molly laughed. "Well, at least this one rhymes." She knew exactly what the toy was. It was Victoria's xylophone that Sherlock had bought the previous year for her and had been complaining about ever since. On the occasions she played more than one note at once, it was almost always a discordant sound.

Molly peered into the playpen. Sure enough, she could see the end of a scrap of paper beneath the toy xylophone.

"Sherlock, I can't reach into the playpen with Christina, but I see the note beneath the xylophone."

"I have a solution." He hoisted Victoria into the playpen and picked up the note. Ironically, Victoria immediately headed for said toy and began enthusiastically pressing on one of the buttons that produced the sounds.

Sherlock winced, and Molly bit back an amused smile.

"Let's swap," he said, handing the note to Molly and taking the baby for himself.

Molly was distracted for a few seconds as he gazed lovingly at the baby. She was always amazed at the look of adoration that spread across his face when he gazed at his daughters. At times he looked like that at her as well, the most notable occasion being on their wedding day when she had walked towards him in the church.

He looked up and caught her gaze. "Are you going to read the note?"

Molly hastily unfolded the note.

_The little game we played in a wooded glade,_

_Where our first precious angel was possibly made._

Molly smirked up at him, remembering clearly the lateral thinking games they had played in the wooded area close to the B&B in Stratford-upon-Avon where they had spent their honeymoon. There was no way to know exactly whether they had conceived in the outdoors. They had made love at least three times a day during their honeymoon, and only twice on each of the two occasions they had spent outside. But there was something to be said about communing with nature as they had done. Molly had felt almost as if she and Sherlock were like Adam and Eve in the garden of Eden before they sinned.

Molly knew that the next note had to be tucked into one of the two lateral thinking puzzle books she had given him for Christmas all those years earlier that he had kept and shown her on their honeymoon, to prove he had kept her present.

Molly walked over to the bookcase. She knew the puzzle books were on the shelf somewhere. They hadn't been used in months.

She ran her fingers along the various titles of books, Barbara Cartland novels, Agatha Christie mysteries, Enid Blyton children's books. Finally, her fingers alighted on the puzzle books, one of which was pulled out slightly.

She took it and opened it. No note. She turned to Sherlock, confused, and he smirked at her.

That reminded her there was a second book. Sherlock had obviously deliberately pulled out the first one a little to make her think it was the one. "Cheeky bugger," she told a grinning Sherlock and returned the book, selecting the other which indeed had a note inside.

She returned the second book neatly to the shelf and opened the note.

_The film I watched on the moving day,_

_When to 221B, you came to stay._

For the first time, the answer didn't come immediately to Molly. What was it Sherlock had watched that day when she had been packing up to move to Baker Street?

She thought for a moment, then it came to her; it had been _The Prince of Egypt._

Triumphantly, Molly crossed to the television stand and opened the cupboard in which most of their Blu-rays were stored alphabetically. She sought and found the film, extracting it from its place next to the dis, then opened it. Sure enough, there was another slip of paper inside.

Sherlock's voice came from behind her. "Remember, I said this was a short treasure hunt? This is the last clue. I didn't have time to do any more."

Molly took the paper and replaced the film, then turned around to look at her husband. "It has been perfectly lovely of you to do something like this."

She opened the final note and read it.

_It's the place where our little one takes her rest,_

_Where we put her each night and hope for the best._

"It's the Moses basket."

Sherlock smiled. "Your treasure awaits, my lady."

"Should we go upstairs now?"

"Seeing as this has become a family affair," he nodded down at Christina whose little fist was curled around one of his fingers, "I suggest we bring Victoria as well."

Molly put the last note into her pocket where she had been collecting them; they would definitely be a keepsake for the future. Then she reached into the playpen for Victoria.

Victoria pouted at her, keeping a tight grip on the xylophone, the sounds of which had become a background hum as Molly played Sherlock's little game. "Play, Mummy."

Molly's eyes widened and a smile spread across her lips. This was the first time Victoria had said Mummy, rather than Mama. She had been encouraging her daughter to say Mummy for months, to no avail.

"You can play again in a little while. Daddy wants us to go upstairs."

Victoria considered her words, for all the world as if she had understood every one. Perhaps she had. Finally, she nodded, and Molly lifted her out of the playpen and settled her on her hip. She preceded Sherlock upstairs and stopped short at the entrance to the bedroom. She had a clear sight line to the Moses basket, and inside it was something enormous. It was a huge pink teddy bear.

She remembered mentioning to Sherlock a few months earlier that she still missed the teddy bear she had had as a child, Mr. Teddy, who had mysteriously disappeared when she had begun university. She suspected her mother had thrown the old, one-eyed monstrosity away, thinking she wouldn't want him anymore. She had given away most of Molly's other childhood toys she no longer played with. Molly had said nothing about it to her mother, but she had been very disappointed at the time; the teddy bear had been a gift from her parents for her second birthday and she had loved him dearly. As a little girl, she had taken him to bed with her each night. That was why his eye had eventually come off and been replaced with one her mother had made with black ink.

Sherlock had obviously taken this news to heart, and she couldn't believe it.

She walked towards the Moses basket.

Victoria pointed. "Bear, Mummy."

Victoria had her own special teddy bear she had received from Nanny Hooper for Christmas and which she slept with in her cot each night.

Sherlock walked to stand beside Molly. "Do you like it? I had it delivered to Baker Street, and I picked it up from Martha today. I had to sneak it into the car so Victoria wouldn't see it or she might have spoiled the surprise. I remember you telling me about how you missed the teddy bear of your youth."

Molly blinked back tears and looked at the man she adored.

"Sherlock, how is it you continue to do such amazing, thoughtful things for me?"

He smiled at her. "I believe that it's a husband's responsibility to take care of his wife, to make sure she always feels cherished and protected."

Molly's lips trembled as the tears spilled over. "If we were not both holding children right now, I'd kiss you."

Victoria reached a hand up to pat her cheek. "Mummy?"

Molly sniffed and wiped at her eyes with her free hand. "It's okay, sweet pea. Mummy is just very happy right now. Do you want to take a look at the bear Daddy bought for Mummy?"

Victoria nodded. "Bear!"

She set Victoria down and reached into the Moses basket to take the enormous bear. Even sitting in the basket, it was huge. Surely it was four feet tall?

As she did so, she wondered why Sherlock was smirking at her. Then, as she lifted out the bear so that Victoria could play with it, she saw there was something else nestled between its legs, and she smiled.

* * *

**Author's Note:** So, what else does Sherlock have in store for his wife? Any guesses? Did you enjoy the little treasure hunt?

Read _A Honeymoon Journey_ to get more context for the lateral thinking puzzle clue.

I decided to take time out from my other WIP's again to do a Valentine story, primarily because I have done one for the past two years. I just can't seem to get enough of peeking into the lives of my characters. I hope you continue to enjoy these glimpses into their life together as a married couple with a family of their own.

Show me some love on this Valentine's Day with your follow/favourite/feedback.


	2. Passion and Future Plans

SherlocK's day had not gone quite as smoothly as he had expected.

First, his client was almost fifteen minutes late because of heavy traffic conditions. Fortunately, his consultation was straightforward enough, the solution simple.

After his client left, Sherlock wanted to take advantage of his alone time while Mrs. Hudson (even though he had been calling her Martha for several months at her request, in his mind she would always be Mrs. Hudson) was babysitting Victoria.

He sat at the kitchen table, trying to think of something special to do for Molly beyond just handing her her presents for Valentine's Day. After a few minutes of pondering, he hit upon doing a treasure hunt.

This turned out to be more complicated than he would have liked. Trying to think of rhymes for the clues was difficult, and he spent half an hour composing five rhymes that were sub par and he knew it. But he had no more time to put into it. He still had errands to run.

A few days earlier he had ordered a pink teddy bear for Molly, arranging for it to be delivered to Baker Street.

Today, while Mrs. Hudson distracted Victoria with a bowl of ice cream, he surreptitiously grabbed the bear from the airing cupboard where Mrs. Hudson had placed it and put it in the car's boot.

When he returned to his landlady's flat, she insisted he have something to eat and have a cup of tea. He could hardly refuse when she was always so gracious about looking after Victoria when he had clients.

After an always delicious lunch of scones, he consulted his watch and saw it was almost two-thirty.

"Thank you for lunch, Martha," _Mrs. Hudson,_ "but I must get going. I still need to go to the jewellery shop to pick up Molly's present." He looked over at Victoria, who was engrossed in doing a puzzle.

"Come on, sweet pea, it's time to leave."

Victoria looked at him and shook her head. "No, Daddy."

He was pleased that she called him Daddy. It irked Molly that Victoria still said Mama, rather than Mummy. Perhaps he could change that situation as a little bonus when they were on their way home. For now, though, he wasn't sure what to do. Victoria did not like to be interrupted whilst doing an activity. She was very much like him that way, but he didn't have time to wait for her to finish the puzzle.

Mrs. Hudson came to the rescue. "Sherlock, just leave her here with me and come by for her later. It will be easier for you to do your errand without having to worry about her."

Sherlock gave her a grateful look. "Thank you, Martha," _Mrs. Hudson, _"you're probably right."

He kissed Victoria's forehead and left the building. Everyone seemed to be driving today, and the car was parked some distance down the street.

A traffic accident delayed him for twenty minutes as he drove to Westfield London, and he was very glad Victoria was not in the car. He was frustrated enough at the delay, and being in the car for a prolonged period would undoubtedly have cause her stress.

He breathed a sigh of relief when he reached his destination. What he had not expected was to find the huge shopping centre crowded, including the jewellery shop. While he waited to be served, he idly browsed the display cases. He enjoyed buying jewellery for Molly, and her birthday was coming up next month, so it didn't hurt to get some ideas.

By the time he was on his way back to Baker Street with his purchase, it was close to four-thirty. He still had one thing to do after collecting Victoria - buy the chocolates that were part of his plan.

With Victoria retrieved, Sherlock had just left Baker Street when Molly's text came in.

He read it, feeling guilty that he had not thought to text her, too engrossed in getting his errands done, Hopefully it would all be worthwhile. He sent back a quick response while stopped at a traffic light.

As he drove, he spoke to Victoria, glancing over his shoulder briefly. "Mummy is waiting for us. Can you say Mummy, Victoria?"

"Mama," she responded.

"No, sweet pea, it's Mummy. You say Daddy, now you must learn to say Mummy as well. Can you say Mummy?"

Victoria seemed to think it was a fun game. "Mama."

He persisted. "Victoria, sweet pea, my little angel, Mummy wants you to use that word. Say Mummy."

"Mama."

Sherlock sighed. Apparently bribery was to be necessary. He reached over to the changing bag which he had placed on the front passenger seat and rummaged in one of the pockets. His fingers found what he needed and he pulled it out triumphantly.

He ripped open the packet with his teeth and extracted a fruit shape. He reached his hand back invitingly, holding the fruit shape just out of Victoria's reach. "Daddy has a fruit shape for you if you will say Mummy."

"Want it."

"He continued to hold the fruit shape out of her reach. "I know you do. Say Mummy, Mu-mmy." He enunciated the syllables slowly.

Five seconds elapsed. "Mummy."

Sherlock breathed a sigh of relief and reached back further so his daughter could take her prize.

For the next several minutes he continued in this fashion, feeding her fruit shapes as she repeated his request to say Mummy and Victoria complied. He just hoped she would remember to say it once they were home.

He made a quick detour to Sainsbury's for the chocolate he planned to give Molly. She did love her Ferrero Rocher. He opened the chocolates and popped one into his mouth. This was a necessary part of his plan. He did one last thing and arrived home as promised, within half an hour of sending his text.

Now Sherlock smiled at Molly's enthusiastic response to the bear. He was also pleased with the way Victoria had remembered to say Mummy twice now. The grin that had spread on Molly's face when Victoria said it for the first time had made all that effort of bribing their daughter worthwhile. But the best was yet to come for Molly.

His smile widened further when he saw Molly's as she finally spotted the chocolates in the Moses basket.

She placed the bear on the floor for Victoria to play with and picked up the box of Ferrero Rocher Collection chocolates. "Thank you, Sherlock! You didn't have to buy chocolates as well for me!"

Sherlock turned to the bed and laid Christina gently upon it. She had fallen asleep. Then he stood beside Molly. "It wouldn't be Valentine's Day without chocolate," he said. "I think you should have one now."

"I'm not hungry for chocolate right now, I'll have one later."

Sherlock huffed out a breath. If she didn't open the chocolates, it would ruin the biggest surprise. "Please, open them. I think I might like to have one too."

Molly rolled her eyes. "Oh, fine. You could have just bought some for yourself, you know." Her words were chiding but there was laughter in her tone.

She frowned suddenly. "Sherlock, this box has been opened, and it looks like someone took out the middle chocolate, then replaced the wrapper."

Sherlock's lips twisted. "I confess, I am the culprit.."

Her brow furrowed. "If you already helped yourself to a chocolate, then why do you want another one?"

He shrugged. "You'll see."

She opened up the clear lid and took out the offending empty gold foil wrapper. Then her lips curved upwards. "Oh, you sneaky bugger. You put something inside it." She set the chocolate box back into the Moses basket and carefully opened the foil, then drew in her breath. "Oh, Sherlock!" Her voice was a whisper. "You didn't really want a chocolate right now, you just wanted me to see this."

"Guilty as charged. I thought we'd continue our Valentine theme. Would you like me to put it on?"

"Yes, please." Molly extended her right hand and Sherlock placed the pink diamond heart ring on it. It was smaller than the heart diamond of her engagement ring, of course. He had purchased this ring to complement the necklace he had given her for their first Valentine's Day together, which had four different coloured and sized hearts dangling from a chain. Last year he had had earrings custom-made with the same colours.

Sherlock was waiting expectantly for a thank you kiss when Victoria tugged on Molly's leg, apparently having had enough of hugging the enormous bear.

Molly bent down to her daughter. "Look what else Daddy gave Mummy? Isn't it pretty?" She showed it to Victoria.

Victoria touched the ring, "Pwetty."

Molly laughed and scooped Victoria into her arms. "Your daddy is the absolute best man in the entire world."

She walked over to Sherlock with Victoria and stood on tiptoes to kiss his lips. "Thank you so much, honey." Then she murmured in a seductive voice, "I'll thank you properly tonight."

His lips quirked. "I look forward to it. Let us hope that our daughters cooperate."

"Well, if we keep Victoria up really late so she is ready to sleep, that's one child taken care of. As for Christina," she looked over at the sleeping infant, "I guess we'll have to play it by ear."

Sherlock knew there were no guarantees. After the four weeks of not being permitted to make love after Christina's birth, things were sporadic when it came to intimacy. It wasn't usually a case of being able to plan things, it was more like "Quick, the girls are asleep," and there was not much time to enjoy that intimacy fully. Sherlock knew he would be very glad once Christina established a better sleep schedule.

For the next three hours, Sherlock attempted to entertain Victoria, reading stories to her, helping her assemble a puzzle, even encouraging her to play that blasted xylophone. By the time he gave her a bath as Molly once again fed Christina in their bedroom, Victoria was definitely ready to sleep.

He didn't even have to sing to Victoria when he laid her in her cot. Her eyes closed immediately.

Molly looked up as he entered the bedroom. "This has been such a lovely evening. Can you believe Victoria finally called me Mummy?"

"I guess it was time," he responded. Molly didn't need to know the time he had spent to make that happen. Perhaps one day he'd tell her when he needed to placate her for some unintentional act that made her cross. "I'm going to take my shower now."

"Alright." Molly raised the baby to her shoulder to burp her. "Once you come back, I'll have mine, and you can see if Christina will be a good girl and go to sleep."

Molly was still holding Christina when he returned to the bedroom, showered and shaved, wearing only his boxers. "Your turn," he said, reaching for the infant.

He took the baby and observed the way Molly reached behind her back, keeping something out of sight as she left the room. He hoped it was lingerie. When she also grabbed the blue dressing gown from behind the bedroom door where it hung next to his maroon one, he was almost certain of it.

Fifteen minutes later, Sherlock had turned off the overhead light in favour of having just the lamp on his side lit. Molly returned, her hair flowing loose in waves over her shoulders. It had been in a braid, and Sherlock always liked it when she didn't need to wash her hair and could release the braid at the end of the day. She was wearing the blue dressing gown.

_I was right about the lingerie, _he thought, feeling anticipation run through him. He looked down at Christina in his arms. Ah, perfect, her eyes were drooping.

Gently, he laid her in the Moses basket and sang a lullaby. Her eyes closed within a minute and he looked back up at Molly, who had been watching him.

He stepped towards her. "Mission accomplished. May I unwrap my Valentine present now?"

She looked at him from beneath her lashes. "How do you know what your present is? Maybe I still have to get it."

He rolled his eyes. "The dressing gown is obviously a method of concealment, Molly. Even John could figure that out."

He reached for the belt of the dressing gown and untied it slowly, savouring the moment. He wanted tonight to be special for both of them, if their daughters would allow it.

His own sense of anticipation grew as he opened the dressing gown to reveal his present. He drew in a slow breath, then whistled. He liked it very much. Molly knew he particularly enjoyed babydolls. They always seemed to make Molly look sexy yet innocent, an intoxicating combination.

This one was no exception. Hot pink fitted bra cups concealed her breasts and the sheer pink chiffon that covered her abdomen, along with a matching pink G-string, immediately had his heart thundering in his chest. This was the first time Molly had worn lingerie since before Christina had been born. She had also been wearing her maternity bra to bed each night as she had done with Victoria, because of potential breast milk leakage. He hoped this meant that tonight she would leave the bra off. He missed being able to curl his hand over her breast when they spooned together at night. Feeling the fabric of her practical maternity bra was not sexy.

"Do you like it?" she whispered.

"Very much." He too spoke in a low voice, not wanting to take any chances of waking the baby. His hands came up beneath the dressing gown to slide it off her shoulders so he could look at Molly properly.

Keeping his hands on her shoulders, he lowered his head to kiss her lips.

Molly's hands came to rest at his waist as they just enjoyed their kiss, allowing their desire to build slowly.

His hands drifted from her shoulders to glide down her arms to her hands, his thumbs feeling the rings on both of them.

He continued to kiss her as he slid his hands beneath the chiffon to touch her abdomen lightly, and Molly squirmed a little. He enjoyed running his fingers lightly along her skin, it made her breath quicken as she giggled. That spurred his own desire.

He would have liked to move his hands upwards to her breasts but the bra design thwarted his efforts, so instead he changed direction to place his hands against her exposed bottom, pulling her closely into himself, moving his own body against hers sinuously so she could feel the manifestation of his own desire.

She linked her fingers around his neck and raised a leg to curl it around his thigh, and he took the hint, lifting her and carrying her over to the bed, setting her down upon it.

She released her hold to move backwards, and he followed her progress until he could place his arms around her once again.

When Molly made a move to the waistband of his boxers, he stopped her. "We will not rush things tonight, sweetheart. The main event can wait."

He kissed her again, and his hands moved to unclasp the bra, sliding the babydoll over and off her body so he could view it properly.

His hands trailed over the curves of Molly's breasts reverently. It was a delight to see them fully once again instead of covered by her maternity bra. The increase in size was also something he enjoyed immensely. He devoted his attention to them for some time, kissing and caressing them. He could smell the exquisite fragrance of Molly's jasmine vanilla scented skin, enjoying the sounds of pleasure emanating from her mouth as he paid homage to her womanly curves.

When he had finished, he removed the G-string and lavished his attentions on other parts of Molly's body, stroking, kissing, teasing, until her laboured breathing and little moans of pleasure inflamed his own senses. At last he allowed her to remove his boxers and administer her own attentions on him.

When he could bear it no longer, he claimed her body fully, marvelling at the way it continued to enthrall him no matter how often they made love.

For most of his life, Sherlock had viewed sex as merely being useful for pro-creation rather than recreation. He couldn't understand why people would want to perform such a primal act that required such intimate contact between their bodies without a specific goal in mind. He'd been such a fool.

Now he knew better, that God's plan had been for men and women to enjoy one another in this perfect union. Sex, in the context of marriage for which it had been designed, was more than a mere physical act. There was a world of difference also between lust and love. Lust was a desire for one's own gratification, a physical act of pleasure. Love was what he felt every time he was with Molly intimately. Everything combined to make it a spiritual and emotional connection as much as a physical one. They shared in the joy of complete oneness through the act of love.

When the flames of passion reached their crescendo and finally dissipated into embers once more, Sherlock reached up to brush a damp tendril of hair from Molly's forehead. She had insisted on changing their positions and taking the lead for once. He had been all too happy to comply to her demands.

He could feel the way her chest was still heaving as his was. It was actually rather remarkable that the baby had remained sleeping. They had become accustomed to keeping their sounds of passion to a minimum by now, but intense pleasure was a difficult thing to keep quiet. Tonight had definitely been one where they allowed themselves to be swept away by their love for one another.

"Aren't you glad I told you we weren't going to rush?" he asked.

Molly pressed a kiss to his chest. "Mmm, definitely. Another memorable Valentine's Day for us."

Sherlock smiled and caressed her back. "Do you realise we went from it just being the two of us for our first Valentine's Day to having one child by our second, and now we have two children? Should we go for number three for next year?"

Molly snorted. "I'd have to say that is one of the silliest things I've ever heard come out of your mouth."

Sherlock smirked. "Well, you _could _possibly be pregnant again by next year."

"Sherlock, we are not discussing having more children right now. Christina is barely seven weeks old. Now come on, let's try and get some sleep before she wakes up. I'll even keep my bra off for now just to make you happy."

So saying, she rolled off of Sherlock to her usual position.

Sherlock reached down to pull the sheet and duvet from the base of the bed where they had been displaced. He turned off the lamp and groped in the dark for the covers to pull them up properly over Molly and himself. Finally, he settled into his usual position behind her.

She gave a sigh of contentment as his hand moved to its favourite position to hold her close, finding purchase against her breast.

He was just about to drift off into sleep when a wail erupted from the Moses basket.

With regret, he felt Molly move away from him to turn on her lamp and resume being a mother once again.

He couldn't complain, though. The baby had not interrupted them at an inconvenient moment.

He watched as Molly placed Christina to the breast he had just been holding. The baby might have claim to it for now, but at least it was only temporary. In fact, he really didn't want to rush into having another child. He raised himself up on one elbow, facing her. "Molly."

She turned her head towards him. "Hmm?"

"I wasn't really serious about wanting you to get pregnant again so soon. I'd like us to have another child but there's no hurry."

Her lips twitched. "I'd still like to have a son, preferably with dark, curly hair like yours, and I'm almost forty, so I know my biological clock is ticking. I think I'd like it if there's at least two years between Christina and any other child we might have, but I guess we will see what God has in store for us."

He considered her words for a moment. "Given our proclivity towards frequent sexual activity and your apparent fertility even whilst still breast-feeding, perhaps it would be wise for us to employ birth control measures once you reduce your breast-feeding regularity. That is, if you are serious in wishing to make sure we do not conceive as precipitately as on this last occasion."

Molly bit her lip. "I really don't fancy going on birth control pills, Sherlock, even for just a few months."

He sat up and slid his arm around Molly. "Nor would I suggest that. There are other methods of contraception, inconvenient as they may seem. I would be willing to take those measures if necessary."

"I guess so. I think we'll have to pray about it, see whether we should do that or just accept that whatever God has in store for us is what is in His plan for us." She looked up at him and gave a cheeky grin. "Of course, there's always abstinence."

Sherlock snorted. "That, my love, is not an option. If you could monitor things to determine when your body resumes its normal cycle, I suppose we could do certain...other things on the days when you are most fertile."

She smirked, "As in the _other_ things we did for the month following the births of our daughters?"

"Exactly. There are also natural methods to lower the chance of conception. If we end up conceiving despite those measures, we will accept that as a sign from God that He had other plans."

Molly smiled. "I like that idea better than you using condoms. You'd be going through a pack of those every week."

He chuckled. "True, it could get expensive, but it is hardly my fault that your sexiness tempts me every day and often more than once a day."

She giggled. "At any rate," she looked down at the suckling baby, "we don't have to worry about it for several months I don't think, not while I am only breast feeding. From what I've read, exclusive breast-feeding is a natural inhibitor of the hormones that stimulate ovulation."

Sherlock kissed Molly's cheek. "What a conversation to be having on Valentine's night."

"You started it," she pointed out, and he grinned.

"I suppose I did." He looked down at Christina. "Now, hurry up, little one, so Mummy and I can get some sleep." He didn't want to sleep until Molly was tucked against him once again.

Fortunately, on this occasion, Christina did not feed for long and Molly could replace her in the Moses basket and turn off the lamp.

They returned to their previous position and settled down to sleep for whatever time they could get together. Perhaps the conversation on having another child had been unnecessary this soon after Christina's birth, but it was good to have a plan for the future.

"I love you," Sherlock whispered in the darkness and kissed the back of Molly's head.

Her hand came to rest over his where it was cradling her breast possessively again. "I love you too, sweetheart. Thank you for always making me feel so loved and protected."

"Always, Molly, always."

He smiled at her deep sigh of happiness, feeling that same languorous contentment spread through his whole body.

He waited until Molly's deep, even breathing showed she was asleep and then he too joined her.

* * *

**Author's note:** How I love writing the domestic, married Sherlolly stories! Raise your hand if you think they should do a Sherlock spin-off based around him trying to juggle being a detective with being a married man and father.

Wasn't it sweet of Sherlock to teach Victoria to say Mummy? I remember it took ages for my daughter to transition from Mama to Mummy and I was so happy when she began saying Mummy (or Mommy). Did you enjoy their little talk about plans for the future? The love scene? I hope I delivered it successfully without going over-the-top.

Thanks to those of you who made guesses on what else was in the basket. Some very creative suggestions!

Oh, and thanks to **Elizabeth Robello** for the cover image. Sometimes I will send her a picture of BC and ask if she can turn it into a Sherlock and Molly picture. She never disappoints!

**Additional note: **Please don't think Sherlock and Molly's ideas on contraception are necessarily foolproof. Make informed choices. Everyone has their own ideas on what works for them. Abstinence is the only way to be certain you will avoid pregnancy.


End file.
